


Calling Your Name (The Only Language I Can Speak)

by Doodsxd



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: BAMF Gimli, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Not so secret, Prompt Fill, Secret Relationship, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodsxd/pseuds/Doodsxd
Summary: What they hadn’t told anyone was that, while Gimli slept, while they were alone, sleeping underneath the stars, underneath the moon, all celestial bodies as witnesses, they had been together. They had been everything, crossing rivers and chasing sunlight, they had been. It was history, marked forever in the marrow of Aragorn’s bones, they way Legolas’ body could shine in pleasure, soft skin over hard planes, hair a silver waterfall showering Aragorn with everything he thought impossible between them. Because he had a bride, promised himself all too long ago.What he hadn’t told anyone, even Legolas, was that he fought it tooth and nail, inside himself, not to let that feeling take his whole heart. Something had to be saved for Arwen, whatever small of a piece that was. Because they were to be married, and she deserved better than falsehood. Because he convinced himself that the fluttering inside his chest he felt every time he looked at the elf was due to loneliness, and just that.He had been lying to himself, and he knew it. He did.He just hadn’t told who needed to hear it.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf, Arwen Undómiel/Éowyn
Comments: 12
Kudos: 163





	Calling Your Name (The Only Language I Can Speak)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThunderPhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderPhoenix/gifts).



> Hi!  
> So, ThunderPhoenix asked for:  
> "How about Legolas and Aragorn were betrothed by their fathers and Aragorn does not know about it until he finds letter the night before Coronation and a week before his wedding to Arwen? Then he is wondering why Legolas never told him only to find out through a messenger that Thranduil is on his way to Gondor? Big question: why did Legolas never tell Aragorn even though his father sent him to find the ranger Strider after the Battle of the 5 Armies?"
> 
> Title from "Souvenir" by Selena Gomez  
> I hope I delivered :) And that you enjoy!

**Calling Your Name (The Only Language I Can Speak)**

_by dooodsxd_

_“E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle_  
 _puro e disposto a salire a le stelle_  
 _l’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle”_  
Dante Alighieri   
  


“ _ My son,”  _ Aragorn had read that letter a million times already, more times than the sun had set and risen again upon that land.  _ My son _ , it started out, and twisted everything upside down. 

_ “If you are reading this, I have fulfilled my destiny, and so have you. You are to be coronated, and to become the King of men you were born to be.  _

_ My son, I am proud of you. Proud of the man you became to overcome the adversities in your path in order to be there, spirit intact, the goodness of your heart untouched, unsoiled. The force of the spirit is the strongest of them all.  _

_ I hope you have found in your betrothed a place of comfort and joy during this trying time. I was overjoyed to know that a noble, precious boy like Legolas Greenleaf had felt the string of his soul pulling him towards you at the moment you were born. Even amongst elves this is not something that happens everyday, especially with a human, like you, but I was overjoyed nonetheless. Thranduil also assured me he would send the boy your way when it was time, and I am certain you have found each other at this point. His soul hurts when yours does, and, from what scrolls tell me, he will not be able to love another as soon as his eyes lay on you for the first time. He will be the most faithful of companions and a fine partner for you in life, and I am glad you were fated such a joy in your lifetime.  _

_ We did not have much time together, but I wanted to write. I wanted to say that I am proud of you, overjoyed with your joy, and watching, from wherever I am. Give Legolas my love, and the family ring, when the time comes. You will find it inside this envelope, along with a few tips of passages around the castle that may end up being useful, it the structure still stands.  _

_ Be at peace, dear child.”  _

_________________________________________________________________________

What they hadn’t told anyone was that, while Gimli slept, while they were alone, sleeping underneath the stars, underneath the moon, all celestial bodies as witnesses, they had been together. They had been everything, crossing rivers and chasing sunlight, they had  _ been _ . It was history, marked forever in the marrow of Aragorn’s  _ bones _ , they way Legolas’ body could shine in pleasure, soft skin over hard planes, hair a silver waterfall showering Aragorn with everything he thought impossible between them. Because he had a bride, promised himself all too long ago. 

What he hadn’t told anyone, even Legolas, was that he fought it tooth and nail, inside himself, not to let that feeling take his whole heart. Something had to be saved for Arwen, whatever small of a piece that was. Because they were to be married, and she deserved better than falsehood. Because he convinced himself that the fluttering inside his chest he felt every time he looked at the elf was due to loneliness, and just that. 

He had been lying to himself, and he knew it. He did. 

He just hadn’t told who needed to hear it. 

_____________________________________________________________________

He had heard about it before. Arwen told him about soul bonds in elves, how they died if the bonded did, too; how profound the bond was, an ache, a  _ need _ for the bonded to be with them, to be close, mirroring pains and joys, sharing strong thoughts. To elves, it was considered the only kind of love impossible to kill, by Time or any other Death.

And now, the night before his coronation, a week before his wedding to Arwen, who he loved so dearly, he finds that letter. Finds out Fate had given him a neverending love, a partner crafted for his soul, someone who was doubtlessly suffering for him. 

“To be away from a life partner, from a soul bond, is…” Arwen scrunched up her face, imagining the pain, and Aragorn needed no more words. “It’s unbearable. Pain like no other. It is forbidden to kill amongst us, as you know, the only exception being to kill another elf who is suffering such a pain irrevocably.” She explained tenderly. “That is the amount of pain, one when Death becomes the preferable outcome.” 

______________________________________________________________________________

How many stars have to explode for a constellation to become black hole? 

What about a nebulae? 

________________________________________________________________________

_ “Do you think we are going to make it?” Legolas asked him one night, head pillowed on Aragorn’s chest. It was endlessly fascinating how he always smelled of freshly cut grass.  _

_ “I do.” Aragorn pondered, letting his rough fingers through the silky strands of silver hair. “I think Frodo is strong, and Sam is wise. They will make it.”  _

_ Legolas paused. “What about  _ us _?” He insisted. “You, me, Gimli.”  _

_ “Only the Fates can tell.” He chose for a placid answer.  _

_ “That is unacceptable.” The elf shifted, curling into himself with his back to Aragorn. “Not even the Fates can be this cruel.”  _

_ Aragorn smiled and shifted, mirroring Legolas’ position, fitting the front of his body to the back of Legolas’. “What happened to trusting the Fates?”  _

_ The elf’s body relaxed against the warmth of his own, letting go of the tension of his thoughts. “I don’t trust them with you.”  _

_ “Then be by my side and do better than the Fates.” He kissed the back of his neck, watching as his skin was taken by shivers at his touch.  _

_ “I am not entirely sure I trust myself with you, either.” And that was the thing, sometimes Legolas spoke as if his words had more than one meaning, but Aragorn could not keep up.  _

_ “You should.” He let his beard skim the naked skin of his shoulder, kissing it. “I certainly do.”  _

_ And the silence that followed was a comfortable one, but also filled with a secret, something he could not pinpoint. At least not until receiving that letter. _

_______________________________________________________________________________

Thranduil arrived by morning and ditched every single common courtesy and protocols. 

“I want to see my son.” He demanded, not deigning Aragorn with a bow or a look. Not that Aragorn blamed him. 

“He is not here.” It was Gimli who answered. 

It was also the first time Aragorn heard of it. 

“What?” 

Gimli looked confused at the urgency in his voice. “He said he needed some air, so he went to the forest to hunt. I am sure he’ll be here for your coronation.” He tried to appease things, to no avail. 

“You let him  _ leave _ ?” Thranduil looked livid, every torch around them dimming down to the glow of his anger. “You let my son  _ leave _ alone with a broken heart?” His voice thinned as his anger melted into despair. “What if he-”

“He won’t.” Aragorn got his cape and his sword. “I’ll go find him. Right now.” 

“You better be right.” The King warned, a finger pointed to his face. “If I  _ lose _ him to your stupidity, Aragorn, yours will be the shortest reign in the history of men.” 

While he left stomping his feet, Gimli approached Aragorn, a concerned look on his face. “I can go find him, if you want. I’m coming to help-” 

“No.” Aragorn shook his head. “This is something I have to do alone.”

Gimli nodded and took a step back, understanding. 

The air outside was crisp and humid with silent moon tears. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Legolas visibly flinched. Aragorn almost felt badly for him. 

“You promised yourself to another.” Was his answer. “It was not my place to demand that you break a promise for me.” Legolas finally turned, looking as composed as always. The soon to be king envied that kind of self control. “Especially when one of the things I admire the most about you is your honesty.” 

“It was before I met you.” 

“I did not think it would matter to you.” The elf admitted. 

“Of course it matters!” 

The forest around them echoed his scream silently. Absorbing the anger as much as it absorbed any other noise, cushioned by a field of velvety moss. They had lain in harsher terrains many times before, when everything was much simpler. Aragorn longed for that simplicity back. 

“Why?” Legolas questioned, frowning. “You love Arwen. I have seen it in your eyes.”

“You don’t know what you saw.” He felt his heart clenched. This was the first time he admitted anything out loud. It made it real. 

“So you don’t?” The elf demanded, disbelieving. 

“I do.” Aragorn shook his head. “I do love her. But not like this.” 

“Like what?” How could Legolas still be confused?

And while Aragorn could make lengthy speeches about war and bravery, words failed him - or he failed them - when it came to this. 

So he let his body talk, pulling Legolas to him. Forehead to forehead, even just breathing the same air as him and he could hear the most beautiful melody ringing around him. 

___________________________________________________________________________

_ Sometimes Aragorn looked up, Legolas on his arms, the world falling apart around them; war amongst men and Frodo and Sam heading alone to the depths of Mordor, but the stars blinked at him and Legolas sighed that happy little sigh of his, and the stars blinked and blinked and blinked… _

_ It’ll be fine, my child. You are where you ought to be.  _

_________________________________________________________________________

When Aragorn caught himself, Legolas was already half-dressed and fighting Aragorn’s armor, sunshine rays coming over them from the top of the trees that surrounded their bodies, a blessing from the forest. 

Shedding everything had always felt natural around Legolas. He kissed the pale skin, as always, trying to get a mark into the gentle, but tough skin, with no success. Aragorn growled in frustration, pulling laughter from Legolas’ chest. 

“I’ll mark you, yet.” He wrestled the pants from those long,  _ long _ legs. Getting one leg off was enough for Legolas to be able to wrap them around Aragorn’s hips, which was quite enough. “Mark my words.”

“I have been waiting, my king.” Legolas drawled, playful. 

“Not a king yet.” Aragorn answered, kissing Legolas’ chin. 

“What?” The elf stopped everything, propping himself up. “Then what are you doing here? Your ceremony should be  _ right now _ .” He looked horrified. 

“I’m marking you.” He got his family’s ring from his pocket and got Legolas’ hand, placing the ring on his ring finger. “And I intend to do so again in a week.”

Legolas’ hand trembled, eyes fixed on the ring. “What about Arwen?” 

“It wouldn’t be fair to her to marry her when I love her like a sister. Like a good friend.” Aragorn kissed the ring on the blond’s hand. “When I don’t love her like I love you.” 

But when his body was about to cage the elf’s again, one hand on his chest stopped him. 

“No, no no no. You have to get to your coronation.” 

Aragorn frowned, painfully hard in his pants. “Are you serious?” 

“Deadly.” He stood up, starting to dress himself, equally as hard. 

“They’ll wait for me.” Aragorn was on his knees, incredibly confused. 

“Sure they will.” Legolas agreed. “But I don’t want them to have to. And you shouldn’t either.” 

“But-”

“ _ And _ I’d rather be fucked by the king on his throne after everyone leaves than to be fucked by a common man on the dirt.” He forced the high-and-mighty tone that fired Aragorn up like nothing else. “I am a prince, if you forget.” 

He could feel his nostrils flaring at the thought of Legolas riding him on that damn, ridiculous throne. “I don’t.” He answered, finally, standing up to dress himself as well. “Your father is waiting for us there.”

“Father came?” The horrification came back to his features. “We’re in trouble, making the King wait.” 

Aragorn chuckled. “Let’s go, then.”

____________________________________________________________________________

There is a particular type of rose that only blooms in the shade. It’s vibrant red, vibrant as any heart in love. 

___________________________________________________________________________

“Aragorn II, son of Arathorn, you are hereby crowned the King of Men.” 

He could barely believe all that clamor was for him. 

Later, when they were all drinking and celebrating, Aragorn saw Arwen approach Legolas with a smile. He felt his heart clench again, watching their interaction. 

She surprised them both by hugging Legolas before letting go, going away for another drink. 

Aragorn approached Legolas, frowning at the bewildered expression on the elf’s face. “What did she say to you?” 

“She told me I had a twig in my hair.” He said, holding said twig. “And that she wishes us both happiness.  _ And _ that she wishes to try something she never did before.” 

Damn. She  _ knew _ . 

“Do you think-?” Before Aragorn could complete his sentence, though, Gimli came from behind them, hitting both of them on their backs. 

“Your Majesty! Hey!” He was already half drunk. “So I take it you’re in talking terms again?” 

“You could say that.” Aragorn agreed. 

“More than talking terms, I take it.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his mug. “Both of you have stains on your clothes. Honestly, when it was just me it was fine, but now I thought you’d be more careful.” Gimli exchanged his empty mug to another from a passing server. “At least until you formally ask Thranduil for his hand, I mean.” 

Aragorn almost spit his drink. “You  _ knew? _ ”

Gimli laughed,  _ loudly _ . “You’re not exactly subtle, you know. It took  _ nothing _ to deliver a letter to Arwen and another to Thranduil when I found out.” 

“ _ You WHAT?”  _ It was Legolas, red from head to toe.    
“Gimli!” 

“Hey, I’m your friend. I couldn’t let one of my friends marry the wrong person and the other go mad from the other’s absence.” He shrugged simply. 

“I should talk to Arwen-” Aragorn turned, but, once again, Gimli laughed. 

“That Arwen?” He asked, pointing to the elf who was, as of now, kissing Éowyn on the lips on a shady part of the big hall. 

“By the-” Legolas was about to burst. “Will you ever cease to meddle?” 

“Your firstborn has to be named Gimli, it’s what I’m saying.” The dwarf grinned. “I’m happy for you.” 

“Get out of here, you drunken fool.” The elf complained. 

Gimli laughed and pushed Legolas into Aragorn’s arms. Instead of instantly trying to get away, the elf relaxed against his arms, hiding his red face into his shoulder, and, really, who was Aragorn to deny him anything?

“Apparently Gimli saw what we couldn’t.” Aragorn said against the elf’s hair, pulling him close. “Which is surprising, given everything.”

Legolas hummed in response. “He got a little better after the Battle.” He confessed. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Never.” He promised, getting the ring hand to his lips to kiss it. “But you should. He really did save us from a lifetime of unhappiness.” 

“Perhaps.” Legolas agreed. “But I am  _ not _ naming our firstborn in his honor.” 

Aragorn laughed. “Are you really thinking about that, right now?”

Legolas’ head poked up, watching Aragorn’s face. “Yes, why?” 

“The throne is right there.” He whispered against the elf’s ear. “And I cannot  _ wait _ to have you riding me there.” 

He smiled, watching the shivers take every exposed inch of the elf’s skin. “You do know that after the soul binding ritual, you won’t be able to get rid of me, right?” Legolas asked, looking a little insecure, still. “We’ll be tied for life.” 

Aragorn smiled, feeling happier than he did when the crown weighted on his head. 

“I can’t wait.” 

__________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that you enjoyed it and I'll see yall later!


End file.
